


Askellty's Bite-Sized Bits

by AskelltyPhobia



Category: Original Work, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Swapfell (Undertale), Cloaca, Ecto-Tongue (Undertale), Hurt/Comfort, Lamia, Lamia Shedding, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slippery Snake Sex, Swapfell Papyrus (Undertale), Swapfell Sans (Undertale), gagging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:14:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26117050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AskelltyPhobia/pseuds/AskelltyPhobia
Summary: A bunch of 1k word (sometimes more, sometimes less) pieces, depending on the subject matter. Written mostly whenever I'm bored, or it's requested.
Relationships: Original Character/Original Character, Papyrus/Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	1. Swapfell(Red) Fontcest - Gagging

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter warning: Gagging, threats of throwing up, but not carried out.
> 
> Check out my Twitter, @askelltybones , I am open to take writing requests if my terrible practice writing intrigues you enough~
> 
> I'm sorry in advance lmao

“You like this, don’t you?” Sans purred light, his form holding his much larger brother’s front in his arms. Yet now, this large creature, Sans couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he was still even a skeleton, was sniveling up at him, looking so small and helpless as his fingers clasped at Sans’s back, surely making marks in the fabric that Sans would have to punish him for once more at a later date. Luckily this wasn’t his only battle body, he could afford to get this one dirty. But Papyrus should know better then to shred at him with those claws of his.  
That’s why Sans usually kept him gloved. Those claws on that mutt were far to dangerous. Far too appealing to somebody who might like to have them wrapped around their throat, in a way only Sans could comprehend from experience with the mutt himself. Sans’s gaze lingered as he grinned, a sick thing, lopsided and dripping with saliva he didn’t know had overflown his mouth. Perhaps he was too far gone to notice. Perhaps he secretly liked himself like this. Messy, disheveled, but he liked that Papyrus was much more so then he was.  
Papyrus was gasping brokenly, his eyes were covered with Sans’s red tattered handkerchief. Two wet, dark spots made way through the handkerchief, where the bottom of Papyrus’s sockets would be. His mouth was agape with a gag. Saliva, tinted a golden orange, dripped from his force-opened maw. Liquid gold, Sans could only think, and he purred at this thought. He grinned wider, sticking his fingers through the ring of the gag, causing a ragged cough to wrench through Papyrus’s body, and reflexively he buckled under, but Sans reinforced his grip with his knee, pushing against Papyrus to keep him up.  
“I wonder how much I can do this until you throw up?” Sans grinned. Quickly, Papyrus let out a loud sound of denial, “Uh-uh! Uh-uh!” He shook his head violently, dark orange blush begging best he could to be spared as he gently nudged his forehead against Sans’s chest. Sans would have complied with such persistent, good begging, but he was too high from all this power he possessed in that moment. He could barely bring himself down as he shoved his middle and forefingers into Papyrus’s mouth once more.  
Another wrenched out gag, coughing, trying to inhale breath as Sans disrupted Papyrus’s manifested throat, but no luck, Sans had a brute force. Papyrus was at his mercy, as he most often was. Sans let out a loud huff of breath as if he was teasing Papyrus with his own ability to breath.  
This was repeated, again and again, until Papyrus was trying to push Sans away. Only then did the smaller skeleton have enough, taking his hand away from Papyrus’s mouth with a loud, almost guttural laugh, coming from the bottom of his rib cage, the small skeleton shuddered with the power he had in his palms.  
“You are absolutely trembling, I wonder how close I called it.” Sans laughed as he leaned down, picking up Papyrus’s chin with his dry hand. Trembling was an understatement, no, Papyrus was quaking. His mouth had too much room to whimper, but he sure did make the sounds of pain that Sans hated hearing.  
“Did…” Sans could just feel himself crash and burn right there on his feet, and he gently unhooked the ring gag from behind Papyrus’s head. His slick fingers made it difficult, but as he finally managed to do it, Papyrus aggressively pushed him away, finally keeling over and coughing into the coarse carpet of Sans’s bedroom floor.  
Sans felt a pit in his false stomach, and it twisted into knots. He gently leaned down, his hand shaky as he laid his hand over Papyrus’s spine. “Did I go too far?” Sans asked, and without hesitation, Papyrus nodded as he buried his head in his arms, still curled up face-down on the floor.  
“Are you alright?” Sans asked. It took Papyrus a little longer to respond. He took a moment, heaving and letting out another cough. Soon, he nodded. Sans sighed with relief before he took a knee beside his brother. “I’m sorry.” He wasn’t good at apologies, he sounded like he was way too uncomfortable with it, but the soft eyelights Papyrus gave him meant everything to him to keep him going.  
“I… I didn’t expect that to be the bad point.” Sans averted his eyes. Papyrus slowly sat up, blinking softly as Sans tried his best to make his apology as genuine as he was. “I’ve done worse… Y’know?” He grimaced at himself as he rubbed his hands over his skull, “I mean…”  
“It’s alright, m’lord…”  
Sans didn’t know those words would sting so much, yet make him feel so warm. A fire was lit now, and his soul felt like it had been squeezed in his own damn hands. He looked down, trying not to let his blush be obvious.  
“Do you want to continue?”  
“Let’s just relax for a second, okay? I must get my breathing back under control.”  
Sans nodded, allowing himself his own deep breath as he blinked up at his mutt, softly offering a relieved smile and a gentle hand on Papyrus’s shoulder as they sat down and let Papyrus catch his breath.  
“Alright…”


	2. Don't Complain Too Much.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of my OCs Hissara, a lamia, paired with Danbala, a lady from my Twitter friendo @LordTypos  
> He encouraged me to post this lmao  
> So have some self-indulgent slippery snake sex~

“Why is it so slippery, it feels like frog slime…” Hissara grumbled, squirming as Danbala brushed her fingers down the loose shedding along her scales. In Hissara’s age, she’d shed once every month. In past sheds, she’d always went down to the river and laid upstream against the rocks until all the shed as been streamed off. But Bala had come up to her with different plans. “A quicker way that smells better,” she’d said.

Hissara had been, well, suspicious. Bala had brushed a finger of the stuff down Hissara’s palm and she’d instantly recoiled. It was slimy, thin but sticky, and most alarmingly, cold. “You won’t melt,” Bala snickered, grinning those poisonous teeth up at Hissara as she held onto her hand. Once Bala had her mind on something, Hissara knew it was almost impossible to change it. Hissara could hardly get out of it, but that didn’t stop the partial game of cat-and-mouse they played. Hissara avoiding Bala’s sticky hands and sometimes rolling away. She was only caught when Bala wrapped her tail around Hissara’s waist and eventually was just dragged, beginning to work down the milky white chipping shed that had started to peel.

Hissara had already been partly undressed, Bala had tricked her into it, all a part of the black mamba’s plan. Hissara stuck her forked tongue out of her teeth with some sort of childish defiance, but Bala didn’t seem to see it.

“You’ll feel better afterward, Hiss.”

Hissara had yet to feel better. She felt sticky from hips to the last six feet of her tail, and she was only getting more slippery.

“You’re doing well, I should do this more often. You look good all shiny like this.” Bala looked back to her handiwork, and she held a long piece of shed in her hand as she tossed it out between the arching columns of the temple. It was a hot night, a full moon, and Hissara looked like she was glimmering, especially with the pale orange glow of her ecto. All of her was shimmering, and Bala snickered at the look of it. “Feel free to move around, squirming makes you shimmer.”

Hissara hissed to her, flickering her tongue in annoyance. She did move though, trying to squirm out of Bala’s grip. “It feels strange, let go of me.”

“I don’t think I will.” Bala shrugged as she turned back to her work and continued to rub down Hissara’s tail.

Hissara whined, trying to scratch away as her top body squirmed onto her belly. Bala didn’t respond, only continued. Danbala smirked the closer she moved to Hissara’s cloaca.  
Hissara was squirming too much to notice, she was busy trying to shimmy herself out from where Bala had wrapped around her.

Bala grinned wickedly as she “accidentally” slipped two of her fingers between the puffy slit, which was almost invisible without Bala’s expert eyes to find the slim molding of it. “Whoops.” She purred, feeling Hissara gasp underneath her, watching the muscles in her tail flex, feeling the slit try to pull her fingers in.

Hissara was still and compliant almost instantly, shallow quivers rattling Hissara’s body. Bala’s chest glowed with satisfaction. She dipped her fore and middle fingers down, pressing into the warmth of Hissara’s cloaca, the large python was suddenly speechless, no complaints slipping from her tongue. Bala scissored the fingers within Hissara’s warmth, grinning as she used her free hand to scrape down the shed from Hissara’s tail while the other worked Hissara into uselessness.

Now, Hissara’s mouth only let out moans and whimpers, pleas of mercy that only led Bala to an even meaner pace of her fingers, adding a third finger just to hear Hissara’s shaky whimper turn to a cry.

At the last stretch of Hissara’s tail, the tip a shaking mess, scales shivering individually out of instinct, Bala slowly stripped away the last of the shed, grinning as now there was fresh, distinct orange piebald color to Hissara’s tail, no longer muddled by dead and milky skin.

Bala purred as she continued to kneed Hissara’s tail, her fingers finding all the right spots that made Hissara melt. Perhaps it was just her personality, but seeing Hissara like this, a mess on the floor, covering her face with her hands with bright blush underneath, shaking madly as she moans, it brought Bala pleasure too, to tease and pamper.

Spoil, perhaps, was the better word.

Bala watched as Hissara heaved her breath, and arched her back. The tip of Hissara’s tail wrapped tightly around Bala’s free hand, almost crushing if Bala hadn’t sunk her fingers into the flesh to keep it from crushing. It crossed Bala’s might that only another python could withstand such crushing strength, especially with the desperate pleading of the muscles along Hissara’s tail, but that was washed away by a pleasurable, ‘but she’s all mine now’. Hissara’s cloaca tightened around Bala’s fingers, and Hissara’s noises turned to a fried wail.

It was in the moment that Bala was grateful that Sabre was a heavy sleeper.

Bala grinned as she pulled her fingers out of Hissara’s cloaca, watching the slickness of it slip down her fingers and drip. Hissara was whimpering, breath slow and heavy, her face still covered by her hands. Bala took pleasure from seeing her so disheveled. Bala uncurled herself from Hissara’s tail, slithering up to her top, where she lightly plucked Hissara’s hand away from her face. She didn’t say a word, she only grinned down at her, blinking slowly as she watched Hissara’s unfocused eyelights looked just beyond her for a moment. Hissara whimpered, she felt like she’d been weightless. Now she felt all warm and squeaky, like a new duck toy. She whimpered, slowly grabbing onto Bala, who purred as Hissara seemed to hold onto her as if life depended on it. That was a pleasuring thought. “Yes?” She purred.

Hissara shook her head, looking up with drowsy eyes as she had no answer.

“You’re so touch-starved, Hiss.” Bala teased as she ran a gentle graze of her hand down Hissara’s shoulder. The python quivered, but her eyes turned to exhausted, unmeaning glares. “All the more pleasurable to play with, I suppose.”

Hissara averted her eyes, quietly cursing up at Bala, who still looked prim and proper as when she arrived. Her nightgown still frilly and pale blue, with no mess in sight, while Hissara has been half-undressed and her collar was backward, the sleeve of her sweater slipped off one shoulder.

“I’d say I’d take you to the river to wipe all this off, but I don’t think your tail can quite make it.” Bala gestured down to the still-twitching scales of Hissara’s tail. Her cloaca was still puffy, the pink of her insides still visible. They had to wait for the slit to close up and hide once more before they could slither out anywhere.

“Well, so is life.” Bala looked down with eyes of only a predator, and Hissara felt her belly lurch.

“Guess I’ll just have to continue with you, right here.”


End file.
